


Behind these hazel eyes(I see lilac skies)

by silent_curse



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:34:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23403817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silent_curse/pseuds/silent_curse
Summary: When Caliban looks at her, she is pure white.All soft angles and gentle curves. Skin made of alabaster, moonlight in her hair and eyes as dark as the night sky gazing upon him --a true fallen angel. And she is shining so bright, brighter than any star in the morning, it's almost blinding. So he closes his eyes, for the briefest of seconds, then opens them again. And he smiles, ''Never step out of the road''
Relationships: Caliban (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Sabrina Spellman
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	Behind these hazel eyes(I see lilac skies)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! Just as warning, english is not my first language, so if you could kindly point any mistake I would really appreciate.( I'm Brazilian , in case you want to say olá) Well, this is my first story so I'm praying is at least acceptable. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Comments are always welcome! Title is from a Kelly Clarkson song mixed with the lyrics of ''Colors'', from Halsey.

**  
When Caliban looks at her, she is pure white.**

  
All soft angles and gentle curves. Skin made of alabaster, moonlight in her hair and eyes as dark as the night sky gazing upon him --a true fallen angel. And she is shining so bright, brighter than any star in the morning, it's almost blinding. So he closes his eyes, for the briefest of seconds, then opens them again. And he smiles, ''Never step out of the road''  
  


* * *

**She is red.**

From her delicate sculpted lips--the softest of petals, he is sure, sweater then any pomegranate-- to her ruby eyes burning with hellfire, the threat of unleashing divine wrath upon those who dare cross her path. Hands soaked with blood shaking with barely contained rage. She reminds him of ancient tales, a goddess who walks as if the world will bend do her will. It almost makes him want to do as well. _Almost_.

**[He is green, raw envy cursing through his blood when he watches her talk to her mortal friends. Not only because that one still loves he-- he never had friends before, being mold from the depths of hell to fulfill the role given by the kings. It must feels good, to have someone to care so deeply, unconditionally for another. Perhaps she could do the same to him either, one day.** **_He prays for that. To who, he is not sure.]_ **

**She is blue.  
  
** Crystal rivers marking skin like marble, as her sorrow crushes the walls regarding her soul _\--_ _just like the great flood_ , leaving her bare,stripped. She`s mourning the loss of a lover, of her mortal friend, of a happy life among the ones she loved dearest before the weight of the world fell upon her shoulders. _He wants to trace those tears with his lips, follow its curse as they trace her cheeks and baptiste on the unholy waters of her sadness-- transfigure them into wine, into blood, as he drinks her pain away._ Like a man who has been walking in the desert for forty years, he craves for her, his oasis--a perfect mirage of life in the arid landscape his life consists of. Instead, he asks ''Why are you crying?'' As if he didn't already know.  
  


* * *

**  
She is pink.**

**  
**Rosé cheeks contrasting deliciously with her pearl face, skin flushed with embarrassment from his compliments, which only seems to acentue the constellations of freckles on them, he thinks he spots Virgo _. It suits her, he muses, to have the goddess of justice engraved on her skin, kind to those worthy of it and merciless to those who don't._ Her nose reminds him of a rosebud in the winter,the pastel color standing like a fade spotlight in the cold weather--smooth, like the mortal too-much-sweet-drink she seems to favor so much. '' A milkshake'', he remembers, ''And they are supposed to taste like that. I used to drink them all the time when I was little'' ''That haven't changed much, I suppose'' ''Shut up! Some of us weren't sculpted like a greek god, you know'' ''Does that mean my queen is pleased by my body?'' **  
**

Pink is also the promise of chilling afternoons and sweet, stolen kisses.  
  


* * *

**  
She is orange.  
  
**

Her smile is as warm as the sun, never failing to fill his hollow chest. Sometimes he wonders if standing so close to its rays won't harm him--being made of clay, it's an accurate worry. But he knows her fire would never hurt him. Not in a good lay, at list. He's already been in the receiving end of her rage, and although its beauty, he's not interest in witnessing it first-hand again. He prefers the quiet fire burning in her like a fireplace, not unlike the hellish one in its power but kinder, gentler. _And if when he holds her close, he melts a little--than well, that's a leap in faith we will gladly take.  
  
_

* * *

**  
She is golden.**

Sweat shining on their bodies, hips meeting and lips bruising as passion overcome them. Moans, sighs and pleas filing the room with an old, enchanting melody displayed for their own private pleasure. Loving her is like molding gold--the heat and pressure so intense it melts his body, leaving his limbs fluid to bend at her want. Then changing into something solid and stiff as they reach glorious release, reveling in each others company. She's breathtaking, his queen,dark eyelashes closed as their love lullaby sings her to sleep. And yet she breathes life into him, transfigures a clay vase into something far more beautiful and precious. Her touch turns him into gold, into dust. All he wants is adorn her body and soul like the very throne she sits on.

**  
  
[She is a kaleidoscope. Spiraling with colors brighter than any flower in the garden could ever hope to possess. Vibrant, beautiful and deadly, tempting his senses like a forbidden fruit kept away by a jealous, selfish god. He takes a bite from it, watch as galaxies explode behind his eyes whenever she is close and bath on the rainbows her laughter is capable of conjuring. She is a kaleidoscope spinning around him as they dance, and his life has been grey for far to long.]**

**  
When Caliban looks at her, she is pure white.**

All soft angles and gentle curves. Skin made of alabaster, moonlight in her hair and eyes as dark as the night sky gazing upon him _\--a true fallen angel_. And she is shining so bright, brighter than any star in the morning, it's almost blinding. So he closes his eyes, for the briefest of seconds. _They_ _do not open again_.

[He stepped out of the road and can’t find the way back]  
  


* * *

**  
When she looks at her reflection, Sabrina Spellman is black.**

_**  
**_ From pure white to pitch black. A lovely wedding gown stained with darkness, blue flames caressing the soft fabric tenderly like a lover’s kiss. Just as in the day of her sixteenth birthday--the day everything changed-- she feels the change curling up inside her and welcomes the cold air embracing her lungs. The woods are silent, but if she listens close enough she can almost conjure his smooth voice teasing her, pleasing her, loving her. The sky is empty of stars, an endless void staring back at her soul. _She is black, like the grave with his name on._


End file.
